For many months I have been trying to work up the courage to begin writing art reviews. They would be very simple: what is this, why is it in this gallery, what does it mean, etc. But everytime I read Dewitt Cheng or Theo Auer I cave in. Then I realized that I’ve been trying to drive a square peg into a round shape. The revelation came to me Friday night after I sat through an hour and a half of the play “Stones in his Pockets.” I LOVE the theater, a fact I didn’t really grasp until recently when TheatreFIRST moved back to Oakland after three years of roaming the Bay Area. It sucks me in like reality TV shows captivate others. Anyway, I may be no better at writing theater reviews than I am at art reviews but you can judge for yourself here in the Trib story. As far as I am concerned, the show — at the black box theater inside the Fox complex on 19th Street — was first rate.